


Sleeping Aid

by Braincoins



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 22:43:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15850926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins
Summary: Shiro and Allura help each other out so much; maybe they can help one another with their nightmares?





	Sleeping Aid

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt from [@tybalt-tisk](http://tybalt-tisk.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. From the minute I saw it, I knew that it was going to be a lot longer than a ficlet.
> 
>   
> ========

            It wasn’t the first time Allura had caught Shiro up before she was. It was getting to be a habit. She’d come in to the kitchen and he’d be there, sipping water. He’d bid her good morning politely and she’d return it. She’d ask how he’d slept, and he’d lie to her. It was obvious he was lying, because the truth haunted his eyes. She’d accept the lie and, when he asked her the question in turn, give a lie of her own.

            It wasn’t the first time, but something had shifted. There was an acknowledgement in the air. They’d grown closer through all this time fighting together, all these mornings spent pretending everything was well. There was a reliance. A difficulty in hiding things. A hatred of lies, no matter how small and polite.

            “Good morning, Princess,” he said from where he was leaning against the wall and drinking.

            “Good morning, Shiro.” She walked over to get herself some water. “How did you sleep?”

            He didn’t answer, and she turned to look at him. It wasn’t just the truth haunting his eyes now, it was a bone-weary exhaustion. “Not well.”

            She studied him for a long moment, then simply nodded. “Nor have I.”

            “Been going on for a while now?”

            “Yes. Yours as well.” It wasn’t a question.

            “Yeah.” He looked down at the packet in his hand. “I just… well, you don’t want to hear this.”

            “I do. If you’re willing to tell me.”

            “I should be asking you about what’s keeping you up. You’re the princess.”

            “You’re the Black Paladin. You’re no less important than I am. More important, in fact.”

            “That’s not true.”

            “It is. And it’s irrelevant. If you want to tell me, I’m here to listen, Shiro.”

            “Thanks. And the same for you.”

            “Well, you start then.”

            He talked about nightmares full of half-remembered, best-forgotten details of his time in captivity. He spoke of hellish visions of ending up back in the grasp of the Galra once more. She listened.

            When it came time, she spoke of her own visions of what it might have been like to be on Altea when it was destroyed. She recounted her people calling out for help, with no one to hear their cries, their king lying in a pool of his own blood as the palace burned. He listened.

            The subject matter was terrible, but she felt better for having shared it with him. And his smile when he thanked her was a little less polite, a little more genuine. There wasn’t exactly a spring in her step, but it felt like airing out at least some of it had helped her push it away so she could focus on the day.

 

 

            It became habit with the two of them: these early morning discussions of the previous night’s terrors. As movements came and went, they opened up to each other more.

            He told her of his fears of what Haggar did to him. He couldn’t remember it, after all. What if he’d become some monster? She told him he could never be such a thing. “I won’t let you.” That had actually made him smile.

            She confessed her guilt. Surely they could have saved even more people? There had to be others at least as worthy of saving as her, if not worthier. He said the Castle probably had held more people once, but that was ten thousand years ago. Those people would have protected her, because they cared that much for her. She was worth that to them, and they wouldn’t want her to think otherwise. “You didn’t do anything wrong by surviving.” She thanked him for that.

            But none of this solved the underlying problem. Allura put some thought into it when she had the odd dobosh here and there to mull it over. And finally, one morning, she broached the subject with him.

            “I really appreciate all the help and comfort you’ve been to me, Shiro.”

            “Thank you, but it’s nothing you haven’t done for me in return.”

            “Of course. But I can’t help noticing that, while confiding in you about these things does help me get through my days a bit easier, it’s not really helping me rest easier at night.”

            He nodded. “Yeah, but what else can we do, really?”

            “I… have a suggestion. To discuss. And it is just a suggestion, not an order of any sort, and I’d understand entirely if you weren’t comfortable with it…”

            “Allura, just say it.” He sounded amused. She chanced a look at him to find that he looked it, too.

            She cleared her throat and hoped she wasn’t blushing _too_ badly. He looked almost unbearably cute like that. “We could sleep together.”

            That dropped all the mirth out of his face and replaced it with red. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

            “If we shared a bed and one of us awoke in the night, the other would be there to calm them down.”

            “Oh. You mean just… just actual sleeping.”

            Her brow furrowed. “What else would that mean?”

            “Oh. R-right, of course.”

            “We’d be sleeping next to each other in the same bed. Just…in case.” She looked down at her hands and fidgeted. “It was always so nice when I had a nightmare to crawl into bed with my parents. To feel safe and protected.” She looked back up to him. “We protect each other in battle already. I just thought…”

            “No, no, it’s a good idea, you’re right.” He smiled, though he still looked a little nervous. “But, if I have a nightmare, I’ll wake you up and you’re not getting enough sleep as it is.”

            She shrugged. “We’re both in the same situation, are we not? Perhaps things will get worse, but perhaps they might get better. We won’t know unless we try.”

            “Good point.” He took a long drink from his water. “Tonight, then?”

            “Yes, tonight. You’ll come to my room, of course; I know what the individual bunks are like, and they are _not_ suited to holding more than one person.”

            He chuckled. “Right. Uh, in the meantime, I should…”

            “Oh, yes, of course. And I need to…”

            They made their excuses and left in separate directions. Allura wasn’t sure if she was looking forward to tonight or not.

 

 

            He approached the princess’s bedr- …quarters in his Castle-provided pajamas. She’d sent him a private message with the time she normally went to bed, so he made sure to be there shortly before then. He hadn’t even reached the door yet when it slid open.

            She was smiling at him. “I knew you’d be both punctual and considerate,” she said, but he noticed she was petting the large braid her hair was done in. “Oh, uh, come in.” She stepped aside for him to enter.

            “Thank you, Princess. I’m sorry to be intruding like this.”

            “Oh, you’re not, and there’s no need to use my title at a time like this.”

            He looked around. It was relatively spartan; the fanciest things he could see were the ethereal curtains that framed the bed.

            “Is everything alright?” she asked.

            “I’ve just never been in… uh, seen your room before.”

            “Oh, of course.”

            He heard a chorus of squeaks and Allura headed towards the bed. Shiro followed after her and then realized one of the pillows had the mice curled up on it.

            “Yes, yes, it’s bedtime.” She paused. “Yes, Shiro will be sleeping here, too.” Another pause. “CHULATT!”

            “Do I want to know?” he asked.

            “No,” she replied. She was looking away from him, but the tips of her ears were red.

            “I’m only sleeping here,” he addressed the mice. He felt a little silly doing it, but he knew they were connected to Allura, so he wanted them to understand. “In case one of us has a nightmare; we’ll help each other.”

            The mice looked at each other, then back to him. One of them – Shiro could never keep them straight – squeaked at Allura again.

            “That’s enough out of you. You heard what he said,” she said indignantly. She threw back the bedclothes and climbed onto the mattress.

            Shiro pulled his side of the blankets down and got in as well. “I’ll just stay on this side. If you need me, I’ll be right here.”

            She turned to smile at him, still blushing a little. “As I will be for you.” She pulled the blanket up as she laid down. The lights went out automatically, probably at her neural command. “Good night.”

            “Good night.” Shiro laid down on his side and put his back to her to maintain some sort of barrier between them. Of course, this meant he was laying on his right arm, which was never the most comfortable position. _I wish I could detach this damn thing_. He gave up and rolled onto his other side.

            Allura – the Princess, he reminded himself sternly – had her back to him, fortunately. He exhaled, closed his eyes, and tried not to think about the fact that he was in Allura’s bed. _I’m here to help her. That’s it. Stop thinking about it like it’s… that._ He knew it wasn’t, that they were just helping each other, as she’d said, but some part of his lizard brain was still going nuts over being in the bed of a gorgeous alien princess on an otherworldly spaceship. _Knock it off_.

            Still, even with his eyes closed, it was hard not to register another presence next to him. Extra weight and additional warmth in a strange bed, and that sort of indefinable feeling of another life nearby. He focused on getting his breathing slow and even, and eventually sleep overtook him.

            The next thing he knew, Allura was screaming.

            “FATHER! NO!”

            He bolted upright, heart pounding, adrenaline instinctively flooding his system. Allura was sitting up also, reaching out into the darkness. He laid a hand on her shoulder and she jumped.

            “Allura,” he said. “It’s just me. It’s Shiro.”

            She turned her eyes to his; even in the wan light, he could see she was crying. “Shiro…” She sounded confused at first, but when she said his name again, it carried more certainty. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

            “Hey, this is what I’m here for, remember?” He rubbed her back. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

            She was still blinking away the nightmare.

            “Would a hug help?” he offered.

            She answered by throwing herself into his arms, and he held her, stroked her hair, and tried to calm himself down. He didn’t know what else to do or what to say. _Am I supposed to say, “It’s okay, you’re on the Castle of Lions”? How does that help when she’s dreaming about the destruction of her home?_

So, instead, he said, “I’ve got you.”

            “Thank you,” she murmured against his shoulder.

            “Here, why don’t you lay down?”

            “I don’t want to let go yet.”

            “Okay, we’ll both lay down.” He knew that once the adrenaline wore off, he’d go back to being tired. He wanted to already be horizontal when that happened.

            So they returned to their pillows with the princess still in his arms. He didn’t say anything else, and neither did she, but Shiro noticed the mice encircle her head as if they could perform a protective shield over her mind. And, who knew? Maybe they could.

            After a few doboshes, she pulled away. “Thank you, that… that’ll do.”

            He released her. “You’re going to be able to sleep?”

            “I think so. Thank you for your help.”

            “You’re welcome.”

            She rolled over to face away from him again. The mice resettled themselves. Shiro stayed on his back and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the crash at the end of the adrenaline spike. He closed his eyes.

            And when he opened them, he was back on the operating table. He was blind, the light in his eyes, but he knew the feeling of cold metal beneath him, the details of the room creeping around his peripheral vision.

            He could feel the absence of his right hand, like it was still there, like it was freshly taken. They were fitting him for the arm. He tried to squirm away, but he couldn’t move. And when metal met skin, there was a whirr, the taste of ash and blood on his tongue, and the sickening feeling of wires clamping onto arteries and veins and nerve endings lighting up like electricity and the pain came in waves ranging from high to even higher and he felt like his mouth must be open, he must be screaming, but there was no sound except the Galra machines around him and he wanted to be heard, he had to make himself heard, even if no one could help him, he wouldn’t let them do this to him without a single noise, he wouldn’t, he…

            “Shiro, shhhh.”

            He opened his eyes. He didn’t know where he was; something had hold of him, he couldn’t move, he…

            It wasn’t a _something_ ; it was a _someone_ , and it was Allura. She was hugging him to her, speaking softly.

            “You’re safe. You’re safe and I’m here and I won’t let them get you again.”

            “Allura.” His throat was sore. “How long was I screaming?”

            “Not long, but loud. Hard. Like your life depended on it.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            “This is what I’m here for.”

            He could hear her heartbeat: it was rapid, probably from the startle he’d given her. But she just held him, and he slowly began to ease down.

            “Thank you.”

            “Do you need to talk about it?”

            “N-no. I just want to sleep.”

            “Shall I continue to hold you?”

            “I’ll be okay. Thank you.”

            Allura let go of him. “Good night, Shiro.” And she rolled over to go back to sleep.

            “Good night, Allura.”

            When he awoke the next morning, he still felt tired, but better. It was still early in the Castle. He attempted to get out of bed without disturbing her, but she yawned.

            “Shiro?”

            “Good morning.”

            “Oh, is it?” She pushed herself up, yawning and stretching. “Hold on a tick, I’ll go with you to the kitchen.”

            He smiled. “I’d like that.”

 

**~*~*~*~**

 

            That first movement took getting used to. It took Allura longer to get to sleep, knowing that Shiro was in her bed. He was, of course, a perfect gentleman, and she would never have believed otherwise of him, but some part of her mind fixated on it. Not just another person but this one in particular.

            Of course, Coran and the other Paladins found out after only a couple of quintants of the arrangement. They were confronted by all five at once, with the Paladins trying to tease them and Coran red-faced with outrage.

            “Divide and conquer,” Shiro whispered to her. He took command of the Paladins and led them away, leaving her to explain things to Coran.

            “It’s only sleeping.”

            “Princess, it’s highly improper!”

            “I know it is, Coran, but it helps. You know what I was like as a child, when I had nightmares? I’m sure Father told you.”

            Coran hesitated. “You’re having nightmares?” he asked gently.

            She nodded. “Sometimes. Of Father. Of Altea. Sometimes I can’t even get to sleep at all.” She sighed and made herself look Coran in the eyes. “Shiro understands. He has his own nightmares to deal with. He stays on his side of the bed, I stay on mine, and when one of us wakes up in the night, the other comforts them and calms them down.

            “He… he’s like an anchor back to reality for me, Coran. And it’s nice to know I have someone nearby to… Well, I guess he’s not _protecting_ me as such, but it feels like that. And I can help him, too. He’s the leader of Voltron; he needs rest as much as I do, if not more.”

            “Just sleeping,” Coran repeated.

            “Just sleeping. I’m still in my robe and nightgown, he’s in his pajamas. The mice are on my pillow. It’s only sleeping, and occasionally talking each other down. That’s it. And it really seems to be helping.”

            He nodded. “Alright. Not that you need – or would listen to! – my approval, but I understand now.”

            She smiled. “I don’t need your approval, but it’s still nice to have.” And she hugged him.

            Coran gave her a squeeze and then looked at the door the Paladins had left through. “Do you think we should go rescue him?”

            “He’s their leader; he can handle them on his own. Besides, we’ve all got work we need to be doing.”

            “Aye, Princess.”

            Whatever he said to the team, they stopped teasing her.

            Mostly.

            She made do.

            And the nights were getting easier. It started to get less strange to have Shiro next to her. Gradually, her trouble getting to sleep faded away entirely. The nightmares were still there, but with Shiro to hold her and soothe her, she calmed quickly and could more easily fall asleep again.

            She stopped thinking of it in terms of an experiment. It was normal now. They would chide one another not to stay up too late working. Shiro still had to go to his room to get changed, but he was always there before she laid down. It was routine. And it was working.

 

**~*~*~*~**

 

            At some point, it’d become routine. And that routine had become comfortable. They talked together before laying down, sometimes staying up later than either intended, just… talking. About anything, everything. She spoke of Altea, he of Earth. They talked about missions and plans, about the Coalition and the team. They helped each other with problems beyond those waking them each.

            And the waking happened less often now. It still happened, but it was like the demons of his own mind hardly bothered showing up when they knew they’d have to face down Allura. They were no match for her. Which was good, given how late they sometimes stayed up chatting and laughing.

            But when the terrors did come, they fell back on holding each other. He would pull her into his arms, pet her hair, and whisper, “I’ve got you.” She would throw her arms around him and they’d lay back down. And she’d just fall asleep in his embrace. He didn’t dare wake her when she was finally getting sleep.

            And, to be honest, he enjoyed falling asleep in her arms, too. He felt protected, safe. Her arms were like walls built to defend him from his own mind. It’d been a long time since he’d been held. A long time… and another lifetime ago.

            So he brought it up with her. “You know, whenever one of us has a nightmare, the other holds them, and we just fall right back to sleep.”

            She nodded.

            “So I thought, maybe if we just started out holding each other, the nightmares might not happen at all?”

            She blushed faintly. “That… that’s not a bad thought. It’s certainly worth trying, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

            “I don’t mind,” he said, knowing he was smiling like an idiot. _It’s not romantic. None of this is._

            She snuggled into his arms immediately. He exhaled and closed his eyes. Sleep came quickly. When he awoke the next morning, they’d both shifted in their sleep so they were sleeping alone in the bed again, but he did know he hadn’t woken once during the night and neither had she. He couldn’t remember the last time they had both slept straight through.

 

**~*~*~*~**

 

            It was hard not to think of it as “cuddling.” It sounded too intimate, too romantic, but wasn’t it what they were doing? And it _worked_. She woke refreshed, well-rested, and so did Shiro. They were both still early risers by nature and still both up before anyone else, but not quite so much so. Coran usually joined them in the kitchen about ten doboshes after they got there now, instead of half a varga or more. And now, when she bid him “good morning,” it wasn’t just polite: she meant it. Every morning was a good morning now, and she wholeheartedly wished others would be as content as she was.

            Bedtime was now her favorite time of each quintant. She had avoided it before because she didn’t want to face the nightmares. She felt like the nightmares would never stop until they had secured peace and freedom for the universe, so she had to push herself hard to make that a reality as quickly as possible. She still worked hard every day, but she didn’t feel she had to push. She wasn’t afraid of going to bed.

            They would lay down together, hold one another, and talk of what they’d done that quintant, what they were doing the next, what they thought about various things. The mice put in their own opinions of course, and sometimes they slept on Shiro’s pillow now. She’d talk with Shiro about anything on her mind until sleep stole him away from her, or her from him.

            As time went on, they became even more casual with each other. He’d tease her or joke with her; she’d tease him right back and threaten him. One night he unwisely pushed it too far by putting on a simpering voice and calling her “The Prettiest Prettiest Princess,” as if she were some vapid and useless creature with nothing to recommend her except beauty. She’d gasped in (mostly-manufactured) outrage and struck, tickling his ribs viciously.

            He’d shrieked and tickle-attacked her in turn. Their usual cuddling and chatting turned into all-out war. She won, of course; eventually he’d held his hands up in surrender and apologized. “You’re so much more than just beautiful,” he’d said.

            The comment lingered in her mind as she drifted off and was still with her the next morning.

 

**~*~*~*~**

 

            He wasn’t sure how it had all gone wrong.

            They’d had an argument, and he’d gone back to his own room to sleep. He could remember each word they’d yelled at each other, but none of them really seemed important. He’d been trying to convince her to shift priorities to going on the offensive more, but she was adamant that the Coalition wasn’t ready to defend itself yet.

            So, yeah, the argument was one thing, but he couldn’t help wondering if it wasn’t really his fault, and not for his opinion on their allies’ martial readiness.

            _It’s because I kissed her._

            He hadn’t thought about it; he’d just done it. And it wasn’t even on the lips. He’d been holding her, they’d been talking, and she yawned. And he’d pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead and whispered against her skin, “Get some sleep, Allura.”

            That had been a normal night, but things were different in the morning. Subtly. She suddenly seemed shy around him. And she had come up with excuses not to be around him alone. And then the argument had happened. And now here he was.

            He was angry. He was confused. He was defensive. He was… sad. Alone.

            He looked at his bunk. It didn’t even seem like his, not really. This was still his room, where he stored his clothes and what few things he had. But it really was more like “storage” than anything else. It was a walk-in closet, and his room was far away down the Castle hallways from here.

            But he _was_ still angry. She’d come at him saying that he was more interested in revenge than in doing what was right. He’d shot back at her that they’d never avenge Altea doing nothing. He could still see the flash of hurtful anger in her eyes and, in the moment, he’d thought, _Good_ , because she’d hurt him, too. He didn’t want revenge, he wanted justice. He wanted to protect anyone else from going through anything like he’d had to go through. She should understand that by now, after all the talking they’d done.

            He turned off the light and crawled into bed. He shivered from the cold – had it always been this chilly in this room? – and put his back to the room. But that meant he was laying on his right arm. He rolled over and looked out into the empty darkness.

 

            _How could he say that to me?!_

            She was still infuriated. She wasn’t sure what was more insulting: the implication that she didn’t know they couldn’t avenge Altea just doing what they had been or the idea that she cared more about avenging Altea than securing the universe.

            But then… she’d hurt him, too, she supposed. She knew Shiro cared about peace & freedom for the universe as well, but he wasn’t getting that they couldn’t push forward yet. She’d gone for the obvious opening on her opponent: that he would want revenge for what had happened to him, for those half-forgotten memories that used to terrorize him.

            She shouldn’t have, but she was angry. She was _still_ angry. And confused. And defensive. And, as she looked around the room, so alone. She’d never really felt alone in her own room before. The mice were still here, trying to cheer her up and calm her down so she could sleep. She waved the lights off and laid down in her bed, with her back to Shiro’s side of the bed.

            She might have expected that she’d have trouble with the nightmares again. She didn’t expect that she wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. The bed – quiznak, the entire room! – just felt _wrong_. There was a Shiro-sized emptiness that was almost tangible, and it… hurt? No, that wasn’t quite right. It was almost like an itch you couldn’t reach, and the inability to scratch it was the most bothersome aspect. And it was always there, always in your mind, something you could never _not_ be aware of.

            Shiro should be here, and he wasn’t. He should be lying next to her, radiating body warmth that always felt like too much to handle until she acclimated to it. She should be listening to his breathing and his heartbeat, feeling his skin against hers.

            _I should be holding him. I should be…_

            He had kissed her forehead. She hadn’t even thought it surprising at the time, but the memory lingered with her the morning after. She should have been surprised. She should have said something, done something, even if she had no idea what.

            _I should have kissed him in return._ Only not on his forehead.

            It seemed so natural a thing to do, to kiss Shiro good night as they lay in each other’s arms. If anything, _not_ kissing him seemed _un_ natural. But kissing Shiro would come with a whole host of consequences.

            _Where does it stop? Once kissing becomes normal, do we then caress each other? Do we deepen our kisses and tighten our embraces? Do we…?_

            She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She had a reason for snuggling up with Shiro every night: a good and practical justification. _I have an excuse_ , she admitted to herself. It wasn’t self-indulgence or hedonism to lay beside him, the both of them clothed, and fall asleep without fear or loneliness. It was necessary.

            But kissing was anything but pragmatic.

            _Perhaps the fight wasn’t only about our strategies_. She sat up in bed and sighed. _Perhaps it’s about ‘us’. He wants to push things forward and I don’t. Do I? Does he? Maybe I’m reading too much into this. It was nothing but a kiss on the forehead. It could have been meant in a fatherly or brotherly sense. A friendly sense. It doesn’t mean it’s romantic._

The thought that that might be all it was pained her and gave her the answer. She didn’t want him to be a brother. As selfish as it was, she wanted it to be romantic. But the consequences of that…

            She tried off and on through the night to sleep, but it stubbornly eluded her.

 

 

            Shiro stumbled to the kitchen earlier than usual. It was almost like being hungover, but without the vomiting now or the fun of drinking before. He’d been up all night, cursing himself for kissing her, even in so innocent a manner. That sort of affection was clearly unwelcome, and that knowledge crushed him.

            He hadn’t really been keeping much of a rein on his heart. He knew he had a “type,” and Allura certainly qualified. It didn’t really surprise him that he was falling. Logically, it didn’t surprise him that she wasn’t. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

            He’d felt cold and alone all night. What little sleep he’d gotten was fractured by the terrors again; waking up in an empty room sometimes disoriented him into thinking the nightmares were real, that he was back in captivity again. It took extra time to anchor himself in reality, longer still to calm down. He fled into sleep to avoid heartache, but then fled back to reality – and the heartache – to avoid the terrors that sleep would bring.

            This morning, he went straight for the _kava_ , a luxury he didn’t usually dare indulge in. But he’d need more than water to make it through today.

            He froze when he heard footsteps approach.

            They stopped in the doorway.

            He didn’t turn around.

            “That bad a night?” she asked quietly.

            He nodded without turning. “You, too?”

            “Yes. Make me one, as well?”

            “Of course, Princess.”

            She sighed. The sound of her footsteps returned, crossing behind him before stopping. “I’d rather you called me Allura.”

            “Sorry.” He resumed making _kava_.

            She was quiet a long moment. “I know we need to go on the offensive at some point,” she said finally, “but not now.”

            “I understand. I’m sorry I pushed you for something you don’t feel ready for.”

            “Is that about battle plans or about us?”

            It was his turn to mull that over before answering. “A bit of both, I suppose.” He set two mugs’ worth of _kava_ to brewing and finally turned to face her. She was leaning back against the counter. “I shouldn’t have kissed you without your consent.”

            “It was a kiss on the forehead, Shiro. It isn’t like you stuck your tongue down my throat.”

            He cleared his throat. “I still shouldn’t have. It just… happened. It felt like the right thing to do, so I did it.”

            “And I didn’t even think to protest it, because it _did_ feel like the right thing to do. It felt good to have that reassurance, and it made me feel warm. And then last night, everything was so empty…”

            “…and so cold,” he agreed. “Lonely on an unexpectedly deep level.”

            She nodded. “I don’t know when the time is right to go on the offensive, but I think we’ll know it when we get there.”

            “And… us?”

            She sighed. “I keep thinking we shouldn’t. But I also can’t help thinking that… that it _is_ the right time. For that much, at least. Maybe not all the rest of that – you know, what comes _after_ kissing – but that much? That feels right. And my father was always a big believer in following one’s feelings.”

            He felt calm and anxious all at the same time. “I’m sorry I yelled.”

            “I’m sorry I did, too.”

            “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you last night when you needed me.”

            “That’s my fault as much as yours, if not more so. And, honestly? I didn’t sleep much.”

            “I got some. When the terrors would let me.”

            “Then I’m sorry I wasn’t there for _you_ , Shiro.” She approached him and reached for his hands. He raised his to meet hers, fingers entwining. “We should take today off. Talk about …the future. The near future, anyway. What we can and can’t do. What we are and aren’t ready for, and the sort of things we need to look for in order to be ready to change stance.”

            He laughed. “I honestly can’t tell if you mean the Coalition or just us.”

            “Both. I figure when it gets too awkward to talk about one, we can switch to the other.”

            “Good plan. You’d think I’d know by now to listen to you. You always come up with the best plans.”

            “And… will you come back to me tonight? So we can get the sleep we need?”

            He nodded. “I promise.” And, since it felt like the right thing to do, he leaned forward.

            She did, too. Her lips met his.

            It was quick, chaste, but her eyes were still closed when he pulled away, so he kissed her again, still holding hands. He let himself linger there until he was sure this wasn’t a dream. Her eyes were open this time, and she smiled.

            “We have a lot to figure out,” she said.

            “Yeah, we do. But we’ll do it together.”


End file.
